


One Last Promise

by borrowedphrases



Category: Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 06:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marvelous has one last thing to do before things are closed between him and Basco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CurryJolokia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurryJolokia/gifts).



There is little but darkness outside the windows now. Again. No more sky, no more cityscape faintly glowing just beneath the Galleon. Clouds and birds have been replaced by stars and distancing planets. The warmth of the Earth's sun replaced by the chill of space.

It's late, by Galactic Standard Time anyway. He doubts Gai is quite used to running on the standard clock yet, but he's making progress, he's certainly not rushing into Marvelous' room at all hours anymore. The crew is tucked away in their rooms, sleeping, Marvelous assumes. Perhaps reading, working out, or other nightly activities that he doesn't usually engage in, and maybe some he does. Not that he has, not for a long time anyway.

The point is he can be alone in the main room and not worry about interruptions.

He slides out from under the covers, bare feet resting on the chilled floor. The right one still stings a little when he walks without his boots on, but right now it's a needed sting. A wanted bit of pain. It reminds him of the finality of things. Of closure.

Almost closure. One thing is missing.

_"Do me a favor? Now, don't give me that look, Marvey-chan, I'm much more capable of asking for favors than you are."_

Marvelous grabs his discarded shirt from the day before from the small pile gathering on the floor, shaking it out before sliding his arms into the sleeves. He doesn't bother with the buttons, just lets it hang open. He's not going to be awake and about that long, not that he would really care if his crew saw him disheveled. At this hour it'd most likely be Joe, and Joe has seen him at his worst.

Almost worst, anyway.

He crosses his room, to the fine cabinet where he keeps his liquor. Way in the back - past his extensive selection of rum, past the bottle of whiskey he won off Luka from a bet, and the dust collecting Famille brandy he's still saving for Ahim - rests a small and curiously shaped little bottle.

_"It's from my homeworld. Very rare. Very potent. It'll probably knock you on your pretty little ass."_

It's heavy in his hands as he brushes the dust from the glossy black surface of the bottle, and still faintly warm to the touch, just like the day it was given to him. It's just about as big as his palm, with a bit of thick hide of some sort stuck in the top of it instead of a cork or stopper.

He holds it tight in one hand, letting the heat sink into his calluses, and a small glass in the other as he moves from his bedroom to the main living quarters of his ship. For a moment he's disorientated, too caught up in memories to recognize the place as it is now. A bigger table, with more chairs. Tea sets in the cabinet. Bits of Don’s mechanical projects scattered over the table that once was all the crew needed. A different crew.

A different Captain.

He doesn't move to the Captain's chair. Not tonight. The bird on her perch doesn't wake as he moves past and toward the couch. Though maybe she does and just isn't letting on. He appreciates it, if that's the case. He flops down heavily, setting the glass down on the coffee table.

Marvelous takes a long moment to study the bottle, brushing the last bits of dust from its surface. It rests in his palm, just as it did when it was given. He can almost feel those long fingers brushing at his skin as they set it there, can almost feel the heat of the man seated beside him, thigh to thigh. Almost feel the tremble in his frame as he speaks more earnestly than Marvelous had ever heard him before or since. The feeling is almost as strong as it was back then.

_"If I should fall, drink this in my honor."_

"You have honor?" He repeats himself from years before, his voice rough and weary, only this time it’s to the silence as he uncaps the little bottle. He takes an appraising sniff. The drink smells like ashes and cayenne, with a fainter note of something he can't place, something almost floral.

He pours the ruddy drink into his glass, making sure every last drop makes it. Any less wouldn’t do. Not for a funeral toast. He recaps the bottle, setting it gently aside. Maybe he’ll save it as a token of what he’s lost. What they’ve lost. Keep it tucked away in a dark safe place. Like his happy memories of those times.

He holds the drink up to the faint light of the stars through the window, trying to remember the man he once knew. The man he'd made the promise to. His crooked smiling mouth and the light in his eyes. The sound of his laugh, the touch of his fingers. The taste of his lips.

"Bastard." He downs the drink in one straight shot, letting it linger on his tongue before he swallows. It's sweet and warm, with a burn down his throat after. It makes his stomach feel warm, softens the lump in his chest.

If anyone were there he would pretend the tears in his eyes were a result of the drink.

But no one's there to comment on his tears.

_"You're soft, Marvey-chan."_

"And you're dead."


End file.
